


Never underestimate Jared

by soy_em



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Season 1, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28243950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soy_em/pseuds/soy_em
Summary: Jared keeps leaving porn in Jensen's trailer. Jensen knows it's just a prank. Even if it keeps happening.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 8
Kudos: 253
Collections: SPN J2 Xmas Exchange





	Never underestimate Jared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coricomile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/gifts).



> For Spn_J2_Xmas for Coricomile2, for her absolutely awesome prompt! I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks as usual to Kris (@naughtypastrychef) for the beta, you're a star.
> 
> Thanks as always to the mods for running the Xmas exchange, I love it every year.

The first time is so predictable that Jensen can’t quite believe it hasn’t happened before. He comes off a long scene, drenched in sweat that’s starting to freeze, determined to at least rinse himself off before he gets in the car to head to his apartment. 

Opening the door, he sees paper stuck to the side of the kitchen cabinet next to him, and a quick scan shows paper stuck to the walls, the cupboard doors, the tv screen, and leading a trail down the small hallway towards his bathroom. Even without reading it, Jensen knows its Jared; no one else would dare go into his trailer, never mind fuck with it. With an eye-roll, he snatches at the nearest sheet and scans down. 

_‘Sam slides over Dean, huge hands pinning Dean’s wrist to the bed. “You’re mine,” Sam growls, and a shiver rockets through Dean, his nipples pebbling where they’re pressed against Sam’s bare chest. “You’re mine, and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t ever forget it.”’_

Yeah, right, is Jensen’s first reaction. As if Dean would be the one on his back, the one taking it. Sammy wouldn’t know what hit him if he and Dean slept together. 

It takes a moment to pull himself back from that, to remember that there’s probably a bigger issue here. Jensen’s heard of fanfiction, of course he has; and he’d been told in excruciating detail by his exceptionally amused friends about the stories featuring Sam and Dean. But he’s never actually seen any before, and as far as he knows, neither has Jared. Which begs the question why Jared has plastered one of the seemingly-more explicit ones all over his trailer. 

After a moment, Jensen decides not to bother with that train of thought. He’s only known Jared for a few months, but he’s already learnt that it’s best not to question Jared’s more questionable impulses. It only leads to a headache for Jensen and absolutely no change in Jared’s actions. 

With another eye roll, he ignores all the paper strewn over his trailer. That’s definitely a problem for the morning. 

***

It’s a few weeks before it happens again. This time, Jensen finds pictures, not text, spread across his walls; beautiful, graphic depictions of him and Jared - or more likely Sam and Dean - in a variety of positions, a multitude of different states of undress, all with exceptionally detailed musculature, most with highly unrealistic size expectations. At least of Jensen; while he has nothing to be ashamed of, he’s seen enough by now to suspect that Jared is the kind of size that would give actual pornstars insecurity issues.

Sam seems to be taking the lead in most of the pictures, in line with the brief excerpt of fanfiction Jensen had read before. He’s got Dean on his knees, cock buried in Dean’s throat; or Dean’s flat on his back, legs bent back to an angle Jensen’s not sure he could achieve while Sam pounds his ass. Jensen’s reaction is again, irritation; Jared seems to think that Dean would be the bottom in this completely-unlikely situation. Jensen’s strongly tempted to tell him that doesn’t tally with Dean at all: Dean can still manhandle his little brother, thank you very much; and he’d have no intention of being the submissive one in any sexual situation. 

But, Jensen reminds himself, acknowledging this will only spur Jared on to wilder and wilder heights; Jared’s looking for a reaction. If Jensen doesn’t give him one, he’ll stop soon enough. 

With a glare at a particularly detailed version of himself, unrealistically soft and willowy against the bulk of Jared’s muscles, he stomps towards his bathroom.

***

He can’t help thinking about it over the next week or so, all those images burnt into his brain. He’d tried not to look too hard at them as he’d ripped them down, but really: subject matter aside, many of the pieces were stunning. Jensen’s not exactly uninterested in male anatomy and his attention had been caught by so many of them; soft shading on muscles here, a ridiculously detailed rendering of a pretty cock there. Since then, he’s tried to think of them only as artwork, not as representations of Sam and Dean, or worse, him and Jared, but his mind has refused to play nice, straying into dangerous thoughts when he’s idle.

It’s not that he hadn’t ever noticed before that Jared was gorgeous. His new co-star is the stuff of Jensen’s teenage wet dreams: tall and strong, tanned and smooth, sweet enough to probably like the occasional endearment in bed but wild enough to respond to any of Jensen’s more unusual fantasies. He’d found out a couple of days into filming the pilot that making Jared’s dimples pop gave him a rush of serotonin that rivalled his first sip of coffee in the morning, while prompting that booming laugh gave him a full-body rush of satisfaction. But Jensen has a very strict no fucking his co-stars rule, honed watching disaster unfold before his eyes on Dark Angel; and besides, he _likes_ Jared, likes him in a swapping secrets at night, us-against-the-world way that he hasn’t experienced in years. He wouldn’t do anything to put that at risk. 

So he’d shut down any thoughts of more, forced himself to view Jared in a strictly platonic light and enjoyed throwing girls at his new co-star, watching Jared flush and fumble and then suddenly turn suave as his natural tendency to flirt kicked in. But now, with Jared’s pranks plastered all over his trailer, the thoughts are back, vivid and technicolour with artistic aides. 

He just needs to get laid, he thinks. With their ridiculous hours, there hasn’t been time since he moved back to Vancouver, but he knows well enough where to go to make it happen. He’ll make sure he gets what he needs at the weekend. 

***

But Saturday rolls around and he finds himself sprawled on Jared’s couch, one ridiculously huge dog flat across his lap while the other licks enthusiastically at Jared’s face. There’s comfort here he hasn’t felt in a long time, a soupy, stripped back, almost somnambulant comfort that has them watching movies for hours, bottle after bottle of beer disappearing as they shit talk and quote and giggle. Jared’s touchy, handsy, his concept of personal space non-existant and his need for physical comfort constant; he ruffles, pokes and prods at Jensen near constantly in a way that has sparks skittering just under Jensen’s skin, subtle enough to be ignored, strong enough to leave him with a strong resolution that he needs to end the evening in his own bed, hand around his cock. 

He forgets all thoughts of future Saturday nights in clubs, or bars; instead, he stocks up his own fridge to return the favour the next week.

***

It’s raining the next time, big heavy drops hitting the trailer with such force that Jensen doesn’t immediately hear the noises coming from the laptop. The screen is set up front and centre, accosting him as soon as he walks in, impossible to ignore, the glow of the screen the only light in the otherwise dark trailer. 

It takes Jensen a few minutes to work out what he’s seeing, his eyes struggling to parse the long body in low light, the hand movements and muscle twitches. It’s not until the wind slams the door behind him, rocketing the sounds into full definition that he realises. 

It’s a video of Jared, laid out sweaty and desperate, little moans spilling from his mouth as his stomach contracts. He’s bare in more ways than one, Jensen notes with shocked detachment, all hint of body hair removed, leaving smooth, golden skin that glistens as he gets more and more involved. 

It actually takes Jensen a few moments to realise that Jared’s face is out of shot, that there’s no proof this is his friend; the body theoretically anonymous. But Jensen doesn’t need to see Jared’s face to know it's him; he’s studied every inch of that body both consciously and unconsciously for months now, has every dip of muscle, every curve of bone, every graceful movement he’s ever been privileged enough to see memorised. 

But beyond that, it’s the sounds that convince him; sweet murmurs in Jared’s distinctive voice, rising as the video continues. Jensen’s riveted, stock still, dripping onto the mat as his face flushes, his fists clench and his cock hardens, unable to tear his eyes away despite the utter unprofessionalism of watching this video through to the end. 

And he does watch it through, his hand straying to his own cock as Jared works himself up more and more, unable to resist rubbing through his pants. He comes at the same time as Jared, spilling messily into his boxers as he watches his best friend spill on screen, mind a blissful swirl of Jared, Jared, Jared. 

It takes him a few minutes after to pull himself together, for shame to come streaming in as he realises what he’s done. He crosses to the laptop, catching sight of the video name before he does - Tom_2005, the site says, and Jensen’s heart lurches at the realisation that this is actually publicly available, that somehow there’s porn of Jared _on the internet_. But that’s a question for another day - the one preoccupying him right now is why the hell Jared has left this for him.

He’s still trying to work that out when he finally falls asleep at 4am. 

***

He’s still thinking of it a week later, in the depths of a Fraturday, shooting a couple of Dean solo scenes as they sail past midnight. Jared’s absent and Jensen’s mildly irritated; they’ve developed an easy habit of staying on set together for nights like these even if one of them isn’t filming, keeping each other entertained, offering moral support alongside giggles and surreptitious beers, even the odd shot of whiskey. 

But Jared had disappeared about an hour ago, and as Jensen finishes up his last scene, he tries to tamp down his annoyance; why, after all, should Jared choose to spend a Friday night at work when he’s not actually working. Jared doesn’t owe him his time, he reminds himself. Jared doesn’t owe him anything. They’re just friends.

That sense of friendship, the insistent reminder that things between them are just platonic, goes careening out of Jensen’s head as soon as he steps into his trailer, the living area dark, highlighting the glow of a light he hadn’t left on in his bedroom. Grunts and groans beckon him down the corridor, the sounds of two men having a very good time; and Jensen’s mind short-circuits at the realisation that Jared has left him porn _again_.

He’s expecting to see a laptop when he opens his door, maybe even expecting some kind of escalation in Jared’s porn-prank war, sex toys strewn across his bed or condoms littering the floor. 

What he’s not expecting to see is Jared himself sprawled across Jensen’s bed, all five million miles of skin and legs and hair spread out, laptop balanced on his thighs as he treats Jensen to the live show of the video he’d left last week. 

He’s angled himself so that the screen is visible, and Jensen’s eyes catch it as they skitter wildly across the visual feast available to him. It takes him a second to parse what he’s seeing, mind stuck on _naked Jared bed_ , but once he does, another cacophony of words join the ringing in his head: _him Jared fucking_. 

Somehow, Jared has found two pornstars that look exactly like them, so much so that if Jensen didn’t know he’d never done porn, even he would be convinced it was them. The larger, Jared-figure is hovering over the Jensen-figure on the screen, filth pouring from his mouth as he strips fakeJensen’s cock, fingers moving in fakeJensen’s ass as fakeJensen writhes. 

Jared’s moving in much the same way himself, hips shifting, hand clenching, his eyes riveted on the screen as if he’s somehow missed the noise of Jensen entering the trailer. “Yeah, take it,” he murmurs as the fakeJared manhandles fakeJensen to his knees, and that’s _it_ ; something snaps in Jensen, all the weeks of pent up desire rocketing out of him as he strides across the room, too far gone to consider the consequences. 

“That’s how you think it would go?” he growls, snatching the laptop out of Jared’s hands. “That’s what you think would happen?” Jared doesn’t startle, just looks up at Jensen with eyes full of mischief; of course he’d already known Jensen was there. It sets off even more fireworks in Jensen’s brain and the laptop thuds to the floor as Jensen slides over Jared, pushing until Jared’s flat on his back, hands pinned to the mattress above his head. 

Jared’s whole body shudders, his hips rocking up against Jensen’s as their eyes lock. 

“All this time you’ve been fucking with me,” Jensen hisses, his voice so low it barely registers. “Was this what you were aiming for?” 

“No, I thought I’d be on top,” Jared says, bucking up and trying to flip them.

“The only way you’ll be on top is if you’re riding my dick,” Jensen growls, watching in savage delight as Jared’s pupils dilate, his breath coming faster. 

Swooping down, he crashes his mouth against Jared’s, too worked up for the finesse of a first kiss. Jared doesn’t seem to mind, giving back just as good as he gets, their mouths pushing against each other, tongues swirling, as Jared pushes their chests together. 

Transferring Jared’s wrists to one hand, Jensen reaches down, bypassing Jared’s pretty cock to get to his own zipper. He’s desperate to explore Jared, to find out the bits of him that make him writhe, the places that make him scream; but there’s no time for that now. Jared’s been teasing him, keeping him on edge, for weeks; and it looks like Jared’s been keeping himself on edge for the last hour or so while Jensen filmed. If they don’t do this soon, their first time is going to be over far more quickly than either of them will want to remember. 

So he ignores all the temptation on offer and struggles to get his cock out, shoving his pants down below his ass. Jared hisses a quiet “Yes,” as Jensen spreads his legs further, pushing one up so that it rests on Jensen’s shoulder. But then, “Lube,” Jensen growls, banging his head down on Jared’s chest as he tries to calm himself. 

“Already taken care of,” Jared gasps. “Just get on with it. Been waiting weeks.”

Jensen doesn’t stop to wonder how this had come about; couldn’t stop to think about it or he’d finish before he got inside Jared. So with a cursory swipe over Jared’s ass to check, he lined himself up and pushed inside, sinking into tight, wet heat as Jared threw his head back. 

It’s a race after that, their bodies moving in the kind of unison Jensen’s never experienced from his first time with a partner, as in sync in this as they are in everything else. Jared’s going wild beneath him, biting against Jensen’s mouth as he tries to get his hands free, desperate to touch himself. 

“Come on my cock or not at all,” Jensen tells him, voice snapping out in an authoritative crack that has Jared convulsing. Their moans drown out the sound of the porn still playing, abandoned, on the floor, the bed rocking the trailer just enough that Jensen spares a brief moment to wonder if everyone on set will be able to tell what they’re doing, before Jared clenches down around him and the thought flies out of his head. 

“Gonna come?” he asks, feeling his own muscles start to clench, the tingling start to build in his spine. “Gonna come for me, Jared?” 

His hand tightens on Jared’s wrists, sure to leave a mark, and that’s apparently enough for Jared; he clenches beneath Jensen, back bowing as he comes, shooting long and hard over his stomach and Jensen’s t-shirt. It’s the most beautiful thing Jensen’s ever seen, the stunning body convulsing beneath him not a patch on the way Jared’s pretty face flushes and scrunches, eyelashes fluttering and throat working. 

It’s enough to send Jensen over the edge himself, shooting into Jared and slumping over his body as he finally loosens his grip on Jared’s wrists.

Jared’s moving immediately, hands scrabbling across Jensen’s back to push his t-shirt up, getting them skin on skin for the first time. It feels glorious, despite the sticky, sweaty come; and Jensen immediately knows they’ll be spending as much time as possible pressed together. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, brain coming back online. “Condom.”

“It’s fine. I’m clean, I got tested,” Jared mumbles, slurring “So did you, I looked at your letter.”

Jensen would really like to have the energy or the will to be annoyed at Jared’s snooping, but both are being leached out of his brain by the feeling of Jared’s skin against his, and he can’t be blamed for that. He’ll be annoyed in the morning. But then his brain catches up to another anomaly.

“But you… everything you left was Dean, was me, getting fucked. I thought that was what you wanted.”

“Nah,” Jared says, smug. “I just knew that would tip you over the edge.”

Before Jensen can muster annoyance at being so obviously manipulated, Jared’s pushed him to one side, cold toes scrabbling Jensen’s pants fully down as Jared positions him exactly how he wants. Jensen finds himself flat on his back, Jared’s head pillowed on his chest, their legs tangled. As he winds his fingers into Jared’s hair, he reminds himself to never, ever underestimate Jared. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @soy_em67 on Twitter


End file.
